


Skeletons in the Closet

by Sanshal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3510602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel & Crowley - skeletons in the closet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skeletons in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twistedslinky](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=twistedslinky).



Presenting my submition for the [](http://spnspiration.livejournal.com/profile)[**spnspiration**](http://spnspiration.livejournal.com/) 's _April Fool's Challenge!_

 

  
**Title** :Skeletons in the Closet

  
**Author** :[](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/profile)[ **sanshal**](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/)

  
**Recipient** :[](http://twistedslinky.livejournal.com/profile)[ **twistedslinky**](http://twistedslinky.livejournal.com/)

  
**Prompt** : _Castiel & Crowley - skeletons in the closet_

Warnings (if applicable): None!  
**A/n** \- Cover courtesy of google images. (got the impression it's an album cover( _?_ ) NOt really sure. *sorry*)

Now, that that's covered; on to the story-  
\---------------------------------------------------------

 

  
“I look ridiculous!” Crowley grumbled as he surveyed himself in the mirror.

Dressed in a black turtle neck with a gaudy skeletal torso drawn in white (which fluoresced a ridiculous _green_ in the dark) and black leggings with similar etchings to complete the skeleton’s lower half; the king of Hell surveyed himself with remarkable disdain. And to add insult to injury, the _lycra_ -like material stretched over his not inconsiderable middle; making the skeleton’s appearance weirdly disproportionate.

He wrinkled his nose when Castiel emerged from the changing room outfitted similarly; an unhappy little frown marring his brow- the angel’s skinny structure seemed even more preposterous than his own: the ‘angelic’ skeleton seemingly underage with how gangly it looked.

“I do not see how this is supposed to frighten anybody,” the blue-eyed heavenly being mused; peering at his reflection contemplatively.

“You’re scaring little kiddies; it’s enough, trust me.” Dean smirked, leaning against the door-jam and taking in the costumed _non-humans_ and tossing them each a mask _._

Crowley took one look down at the cheery looking skull painted on the black ski mask and tossed it aside, “That’s it; y’all had your laugh so now I’m done. I’m _not_ doing this!”

“You’re reneging on a bet, Crowley?” Dean drawled, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I’m the _King_ of hell, Squirrel, don’t you forget that; just because I don’t kill you where you boys stand doesn’t mean you can disrespect me like this!”

Dean straightened, his walk predatory as he stalked towards the shorter man, “Not your knight anymore Crowley; so I’ll have no compunctions ‘bout sticking this little knife through your black little heart.”

He scraped the needle-sharp point down the demon’s jaw, watching the pupils dilate in a mix of desire and fear (with the latter emotion more dominant) before pulling back, “Besides, it was _your_ brilliant idea to make a bet with Sammy,”

“Sam always wins his bets?” Castiel asked, blue eyes curious, “I had not known that before I agreed to his challenge.”

“He does when it concerns his brother,” Dean answered, smile widening as his eyes dropped to his unblemished right forearm once again.

 

 

They had all nearly given up; Dean himself had been resigned to take on the mantle of Father of murder after killing Cain... all, that is, except Sam. The younger Winchester had maintained that he would find a cure.

And even when Crowley and Castiel had expressed their doubts over his hair-brained scheme ( _and yeah; Dean was still angry about that one- Sammy could have gotten himself killed!)_ he had persevered. It was almost like the more everybody told him it could not be done; the more determined Sam was to prove that _yes; he in fact, COULD accomplish it._.. to cut a long story short, ultimately Dean’s sasquatch little brother had gotten irritated enough by the words of his detractors to make what they would all simply remember here on forever as ‘ _the bet’_.

And of course he won it: Dean was mark free by the end of that very month.

“Alright guys, you know what you’ve to do; right?” Sam strolled in, dimples out in full force as he took in the costumed angel and demon, “You two need to hide in the closet of the haunted house and when the kids come in – _don’t worry, Dean and I will give you a cue-_ you’re to jump out and scare them; ‘kay?”

“Don’t forget to hand out the chocolates before they leave,” Dean called behind them, chuckling as he grabbed his and Sammy’s fake but realistic looking light sabres (courtesy of Charlie) and followed: _this was going to be the best Halloween ever!_

\--------------------

The End.


End file.
